With a breath, she opened her fae-blooded gift to the rolling sea beneath them. The tide pushed its way towards the small island. A current drifted across the shore. Further out, beyond their ship, The Morrigan, anchored a hundred feet away, a stronger current streamed northwest.

The sea was an extension of her, or rather she an extension of it—it was far larger, far older, far more than her, just another creature in its domain.

Lips thinning, nostrils flaring, the former captain surged towards her.

How predictable.

Bracing, she pulled on the current, stilling it for a second. The boat jolted, and the former captain stumbled, landing on his knees and the fists he’d intended for her.

“Oh, please do”—she drew her fae-worked pistol and aimed at his head—“please give me an excuse to splatter your brains all over your crewmates.” She pressed the muzzle into his forehead and smiled. She wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, but he didn’t need to know that.

Chest heaving, he glared up at her. His shoulders slumped, and he sank back in place with the rest of his men.

“Pity.” She returned the pistol to its holster and hurried along the current. It was light work to move the little boat, and the sooner they were rid of this lot, the better.

A few minutes later, thanks to her gift and the rowers, they bumped against the sandy beach.

Vice jumped out, sighing at the cool water on her feet and legs, the rightness of the sea’s touch. With a firm grip, she held the boat steady and jerked her head towards the island. “This is your stop, gents. Get off my boat.”

The slave ship’s officers exchanged glances, then looked at her, the rowers, then Perry. Yes, they outnumbered the pirates sixteen to twelve, but they’d be damn fools to try anything unarmed.

Maybe they needed a reminder. She narrowed her eyes at Perry and gave a little nod.

As Perry rose, her pale blond hair fought to escape its plait, swishing in the wind. That, combined with her broad cheekbones and air of calm, gave her the look of a Varangian queen, despite her diminutive height. She lifted her chin. “Get out, dogs!”

The officers jumped at her throaty voice right behind them. As they looked over their shoulders, she drew her cutlass. The steel glinted as coldly as her eyes.

The pirates stood and brandished their oars like boarding pikes. Vice drew her pistol for good measure, waving them off the boat.

The officers scrambled out, splashing into the water, casting fearful glances between the pirates.

“Much obliged,” Vice said, smiling her most winning smile as she bowed with a flourish. Perry threw them a duffle bag of supplies and waved.